Tag Archives: monk

I awoke from a mystical dream to the golden glow of the dawn. As I wrote the dream in my diary, I noticed the Sun rising, and so I decided to perform an evocation of the Risen Sun. This nicely compliments the Moon evocation of the previous evening. However the dream that lead into it also seems an important part of this evocation so I will relate that first:

There was a kind of special church service only for priests and monks. I was part of a group of travelling priests and we were listening to a local legend being told by a monk. A saint and founding monk of this monastery had spent 14 months in prayer and meditation, experiencing heaven in visions, and towards the end of this experience they met a divine presence. They thanked Jesus for the experience but were told it was not Jesus but the Holy Spirit.

“Then now I know my time is short.” said the monk.

As I listened, every priest and monk bowed in such a way as to touch their forehead to the ground. I did likewise.

One of my travelling companions, a Father Mike (who I know in real life as actually a Wiccan priest), exclaimed that this saint/monk was also into sacred numerology if it was 14 months.

The monk who told the story asked him to explain.

Father Mike explained how the early Christians were into scared numbers to do with the number 4, such as 4 itself, 14, 40 and 44, and that they were fascinated because 4 was half an octave. He explained how he learned all this from ‘The Black Book’, a book the early Christians said was written by God himself who then never opened it once written.

And so this is the dream I had directly before the evocation of the Risen Sun. The advantage of having the altar set up with the pentacle became apparent as all I had to do was grab a meditation cushion and get started. I stared at the pentacle and slowly counted to 14, then looked up and said ‘Hello’ to the Risen Sun.

“Hello Anton!” said the Sun in a deep resonant voice that echoed with the choirs of angels, “What can I do for you?”

I felt humbled before this presence and asked “I wondered if you had a message for me?”

“It is good!” the voice seemed almost lost in endless echo and vague variations such as ‘It is good to be alive” and “It is good to have risen” in the voices of countless angels, all talking in musical harmony with each other.

Then in a clear resonant voice, rising above the continuing echoes of the choirs of angels, “Life is good, do not waste it, the time that is given to you.”

I then watched as the sun rose into the clouds and disappeared from view. I touched my head to the floor in the manner of the travelling priest in my dream, and the evocation was over.